Sing Me To Sleep
by nolyte
Summary: Oneshot, rated for difficult subject matter: Going through her mother's illness and death was the most harrowing experience Miley had ever lived through. She could never go through it again. Never.


**This idea struck me quite randomly. But I thought it would make a good read, so I wrote it for you. It may jerk some tears, as they say, but that's not necessarily a bad thing, is it?**

**If you haven't already, please check out my first oneshot, _Tunnel_, when you're finished with this story.**

**The title of this story comes from an All Time Low song entitled "Lullabies." It is quoted at the beginning, as you can probably already see. I do not own this song or this band, nor do I own _Hannah Montana_.**

_--- _

_"Sing me to sleep, I'll see you in my dreams… waiting to say, 'I miss you, I'm so sorry…'"_ _– All Time Low_

---

It was December 3rd, and Miley did not want to wake up. If she had her way she would sleep through this next day and night, wake up on the 4th, and go on with her life. December 3rd was the only day of the year that she wished would be wiped from the calendar. She knew she had a great life, but that was only 364 days of the year.

Seven years ago today, the phone call came.

Miley remembered 2000. She had been eight then. In was back in October when her mother had returned home one night, pale and crying. For what had been expected to be your average biannual physical had just crashed down on the entire Stewart family, producing a road block that they just couldn't figure out how to cross.

Mrs. Stewart had leukemia.

Ten-year-old Jackson understood what was happening a little better than eight-year-old Miley, but he was firmly instructed by his shaken father to be strong—"for your mom, for your sister, for me and for the Lord above"—so he was generally quiet about the entire situation. All Miley could comprehend at the time was that something serious was happening. She asked questions, but she rarely got answers.

Her mother was in the hospital for two months, getting weaker and weaker. The cancer was working quickly and nothing was going to stop it. But Miley didn't expect her mother would die—she was just waiting for her to come back home.

So on December 3rd, that horrible day, when the phone rang to tell the Stewarts that the evil cancer had suddenly taken away their chances to say goodbye, she was speechless. Even if she could stop sobbing she would not have been able to form words. The idea that Mom was gone was too much for her to handle and she would not allow consolation from her family when she knew that they were broken as well. After all, how could they be strong about this when she couldn't? Mom has always said she was the toughest little girl she had ever known.

For two years Miley's insides twisted whenever the phone rang. Although she gradually overcame that fear, she could never get through the third day of December without shedding a tear. It would never happen.

Her alarm clock blared. _Might as well stop fighting it,_ she thought to herself sadly. She sat up on the edge of her bed and blinked before looking up at the sky through her ceiling and whispering, "I love you, Mom."

She walked silently downstairs and found Jackson and Robby Ray sitting quietly at the table, about to begin breakfast. At each of the three places there was a plate of strawberry waffles and a fried egg—it was Mrs. Stewart's favorite breakfast. This was a solemn tradition in the Stewart household. Every year on her birthday and every year on the anniversary of her death they would eat what they now called "Mom's food."

"Mornin' Miley," Robby said softly. She nodded in reply and sat down at her spot around the table, poking at the food in front of her.

Another tradition, though not official, was that little of "Mom's food" would be eaten. It never was.

After a generally silent five minutes in which a total of three bites of food were taken by all, Jackson spoke up. "So Dad, when does the Titans game start?"

"It was postponed," Robby said. "It's pouring in Tennessee."

"Oh."

It seemed to fit.

This wasn't _supposed_ to be a very enjoyable day.

---

A week later and Hannah Montana had just finished a sold-out concert. She ran from the stage with adrenaline still pumping and Lola-Lilly clapped furiously as she squealed with excitement. "That was the best show _ever!_"

"Do you ever not say that after a concert?" Hannah-Miley asked.

"Well, there was the one where you lost your voice mid-song…"

"But you still said it, Lilly, don't think I don't remember."

The girls laughed with each other and continued laughing throughout their limo ride home, throughout their transformations back to Miley and Lilly and were planning on laughing throughout the night, but when they returned downstairs Robby was standing quite still with a grave expression on his face.

He was holding the telephone. "Miles, Lilly… I think you'd better take this." The blood drained from Miley's face.

She grabbed the phone and cautiously asked, "This is Miley… hello?" Lily looked on anxiously.

"Oh Miley," a strained voice emerged from the receiver, "it's Mrs. Oken. It's Oliver, he's… he's sick."

The girl's heart skipped a beat. "W-with what?"

Mrs. Oken broke down on the other end of the line. "It's leukemia."

Miley dropped the phone.

---

She would not come out. Not until they told her the truth. They were joking, they had to be.

She would stay in her room until Oliver came bouncing in, hyper and happy and perfectly healthy, laughing that he got her good. And she would tell him that it was a mean gag before she'd start laughing with him again and everything would be back to normal.

But two days went by and he didn't come bouncing in. Two days went by and nobody told her it was just a joke. Two days went by and denial just stopped working. Miley finally emerged from her room just so she could cry on her father's shoulder.

"This isn't supposed to happen to kids," she said through her choked sobs. Robby hugged her close and rubbed her back. He couldn't contest this. It was true and it broke his heart.

Jackson slipped downstairs and sat down next to his sister, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. Whether he was obnoxious or not, when the situation called for it he was a truly great brother. And Oliver was his friend as well—though the news itself didn't hit him as hard as it hit Miley, he was still shaken.

Over the next few days Lilly called every night and they would talk together in hushed, worried tones. Nothing could calm the worry either one of them felt. They wanted to talk to Oliver so badly, but whenever they tried his mother would answer the phone and tell them he was asleep or he was too tired.

Miley was terrified. Ever since her mother had died she couldn't even stand to hear the word "leukemia," or even the word "cancer"—she nearly broke up with an eighth grade boyfriend when he told her his birthday was at the beginning of July.

But now it had struck her best friend in the world. She couldn't bear to go through it again, she just couldn't. She didn't know how to deal with this. It was too unfair.

---

Robby postponed two Hannah shows, attributing it to "personal issues."

Miley had taken one of his guitars into her own room and would spend hours just playing it. She was eating less and talked less frequently. It was obvious that she cried often.

There was still no news on Oliver.

One day Robby walked into Miley's room to find her playing the guitar once again. He didn't recognize the tune, but he saw she had paper and a pencil on the desk in front of her, so he figured she was writing music.

"Miles, I want you to put that guitar down and eat something," he said, slamming a plate of macaroni and cheese on top of the paper she was scribing onto. "I'm worryin' about you."

"Not hungry," Miley mumbled, glancing at the plate before returning to the instrument.

"Eat."

The girl looked up at her father, staring into his stern eyes. Tears welled up once more and she removed the guitar from her shoulders. "I'm not hungry."

"Miley, you have to eat! I know how hard this is for you, but this isn't safe!"

"Daddy, you went through this with Mom," Miley said as the first tears rolled down her cheeks. "I went through it with Mom too. But now I have to go through it again. Oliver's gonna die and I can't do anything about it. I couldn't do anything about it last time either." By now she had her face in her hands and was convulsing with each sob.

Robby again slid his arm around his daughter. "Now Miles, I can't say I know Oliver's gonna be okay. But he's young and he's strong. This is something real hard for him; you gotta know that—he's the one going through it. You need to be strong for him."

Miley sniffed and nodded. But the words were hollow. She had heard them all before.

---

At the beach, Miley and Lilly sat at Rico's in some kind of awkward solemnity. Every once in a while one would try and bring up some light subject and it would be good for a few chuckles, but they always returned to the silence. And they couldn't stand the silence.

"Miley," came a voice. Lost in painful thought as she stared unseeingly at the sand beneath her, Miley needed Lilly to alert her of the person who was speaking to her. It was Rico.

"You hungry?" he asked. Miley nodded—she could eat. She had been lifted from her downward spiral and was hungry as hell; still, it wasn't like she was improving. She had just stopped getting worse.

"Here." Rico pushed two hot dogs in front of the visiting girls. "They're on the house." He smiled slightly before turning and walking back into the store.

Minutes later Jackson emerged. "Rico's being human," Lilly said in astonishment.

"Yeah," Jackson replied. "He heard about… you know. Guess the little monster's got some good in him after all."

Miley remained silent as she neared the end of her free hot dog. These were hard to come by at Rico's, and it was a great treat—but it did little for her mood.

---

It was another week of near silence and one more Hannah show was canceled. Rumors were circulating in the media about what exactly these "personal issues" that had nixed three concerts were, but Miley didn't care. All she cared about was Oliver. She had nearly finished writing her song and almost laughed at how "emo" Hannah Montana's lyrics were.

Almost. It was more dark irony than humor.

Miley didn't notice when the New Year arrived, but it came and went. It was January 2nd when the phone rang again.

Her heart sank like a rock and it took her four rings to gulp down the lump in her throat enough to answer it.

"Hello?" she asked weakly, ready to burst out crying at any moment.

"Miley."

Seconds of silence. And Miley did burst. But it wasn't in tears—it was pure joy exploding from deep in her chest and all the way out of her mouth. It was Oliver's voice.

---

The next month arrived. Hannah's shows were back on and Miley and Lilly were back at school.

"How's Oliver?" Rico asked one day before science class started.

"Great," Miley responded, and she felt equally great giving this answer. "He's still on bed rest but he's back home and everything looks A-okay."

"That's good," Rico said with a smile. Lilly and Miley grinned at each other.

It was _very _good.

---

Oliver fully recovered. When he returned to school his hair was about half of its previous length and he was mobbed by the entire grade with hugs. "Maybe I should keep this look," he offered to Lilly and Miley at their lockers when he finally escaped all the love.

The girls just smiled at him and hugged him again.

---

**Hope you all enjoyed. By the way, for those who don't already know, yes I'm a guy who enjoys _Hannah Montana_. This is stated in my author's profile and in my first story, and I might include this tidbit of info in all my stories just for the hell of it because I'd like to see the reactions. **

**Yeah, I get my kicks in kind of odd ways. **

**Please review and thanks for reading.**


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